The Things We Do For Love
by DianeB
Summary: And so the saga of Troi and Worf continues. Who knew it would come to this?


Title: The Things We Do For Love

Author: DianeB

Rating: PG

Summary: And so the Troi/Worf saga continues. Who knew it would come to this?

A/N: Written, oh, sometime in 1998 and revised a bit in March, 2005. Nothin' but fun.

* * *

The comm beeped at about 0200, pulling her out of a deep, dreamless sleep. "Dr. Crusher to Sickbay. Medical emergency." Crusher was up, dressed, and out the door before she was even fully awake.

Upon arrival in Sickbay, she was shocked to see Deanna Troi unconscious on a biobed, Nurse Ogawa hovering over her. One glance to the side saw Worf standing there, holding himself in a distinctly _un_-Klingon-like fashion. With that glance, Crusher could only describe him as less-than-stoic.

"What happened here, Alyssa?"

"I don't know for sure yet, Doctor. Worf brought her here in this condition and refused to tell me what happened. I gave Deanna a light sedative because I was afraid she would hurt herself further, and she was not making any sense in her attempt to say what had happened." Ogawa paused and met the doctor's gaze. "I'm puzzled by these injuries, Dr. Crusher."

Crusher looked down at Troi and saw a fresh bruise on her cheek and scratches on her neck. Carefully opening Troi's gown, she saw further scratching across her chest, although to her experienced eye they appeared superficial. The marks did not look entirely unfamiliar to Crusher, but she was not very well informed about Klingon rituals. Needing to verify what she suspected, she turned to Worf, who had not moved from his silent vigil in the corner.

"Alyssa, go ahead and begin healing those scratches. Call me immediately if anything doesn't go well." She crooked her finger at Worf. "You, come with me." She moved into her office, sat down at her desk, and motioned for Worf to sit across from her. He sat gingerly, on the edge of the chair.

"Although I can pretty much guess what occurred from the looks of Deanna's injuries, would you mind telling me just what the hell you think you were doing?"

"Doctor Crusher," Worf began with force, staring at a point just past her head, "I am shamed by what happened. I take full responsibility. I did not want to engage in the ritual of mating with Deanna, but she can be very. . .persuasive when she wants to be.

When Crusher tried to interrupt, he held up a big hand and continued.

"She and I and Alexander were together all day yesterday. We programmed Holodeck Six for the Parallax Colony on Shiralea Six and spent the day hiking, watching the dancers, and soaking in the mudbaths. It was. . .pleasant." Worf hedged, his eyes shifting to Crusher and then hastily away.

"Alexander was asleep before we reached my quarters at the end of the day, and I put him right to bed. I returned to the dining area, and Deanna and I shared a meal and synthehol, as we often do."

Again, unlike a Klingon, Worf shifted carefully in his seat and cast his eyes downward in a human way that spoke of embarrassment at sharing something so personal.

"Get on with it, Worf," Crusher said, her anger too close to the surface to risk saying anything more.

"We drank more than usual, and it left us both feeling. . .mellow." He shook his head at the term. "And as I said, when Deanna wants something, she is good at getting it. It does not seem to matter that her empathic powers do not always extend to me. She always knows what I am thinking." His voice dropped. "And last night, I admit I was thinking along the same lines as she." His gaze moved back to the doctor's and he shifted carefully in his seat.

"But she was so aggressive last night!" Worf's voice rose defensively. "I was unprepared for her actions. She approached me with her gown open, looked directly into my eyes, grabbed my hair and yanked it, threw her head back and growled. I do not know how long she had been practicing, but she was very convincing, and very provocative. I was unable to maintain my control. I howled in return, drew my hand back, and hit her."

With that, Worf made as if to demonstrate what he had done to Troi. His breath caught with the movement as a grimace of pain shot across his features. Crusher noticed then for the first time that he was sweating and appeared to be about to pass out. Her anger over what he had done to Troi was immediately eclipsed by the way he looked.

"Worf! What on Earth?" Crusher rose quickly from her chair and came around her desk to place a hand on his shoulder. He growled aloud at her touch but offered no resistance as Crusher gently removed his shirt, gaping at what she saw.

All across his shoulders and crisscrossing down his back as far as she could see were brutal-looking, deep red welts, most of which were leaking blood. "My God, Worf!

"As I said, Doctor," he said with a snarl, staring at the wall, "Deanna can be very persuasive when she wants to be."

End.


End file.
